Blood Gulch Idol
by The Narwhal Ninja
Summary: What on Earth could ever go wrong when we put everyone's favorite canyon occupants on a reality television show? T for language and lyrics.
1. Chapter 1: Caboose

**So, hey my dears. If you don't recognize me, it's because you didn't read that _embarrassing _little bit o' fluff I published a few weeks ago. Anyhow, new story idea, completely fueled by sugar and lack of sleep. **

**Being a fan of music, I always like to find songs for characters. My dear friend, Aria Soul, shares this passion and... It was three in the morning and we came up with this monstrosity. It's pretty self explanatory and set in some sort of "Alternate Universe" - clearly. But I'll try to keep 'em in character as best as I can.**

**I OWN ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Not Halo, Red Vs. Blue, any of these characters, or any of these songs. I'll post a set list at the end of each chapter giving credit where needed.**

* * *

><p>"The stage is set. One lucky contestant that stands on this stage will go home with eternal glory and the right to re-name the Warthog. Along with various snack foods and a year's subscription to Reader's Digest. This is Blood Gulch Idol!" Simmons 2.0, all dressed up in a suit and looking rather dashing, gestured to the group of people standing behind him as the applause erupted. "Settle down, settle down," Simmons said to the audience. "We have a new way of eliminating contestants tonight."<p>

He gestured to the judges' panel. "Lopez, will you explain?"

"Si, senoir," Lopez said. "Esta noche, ya que tenemos una gran variedad de talento," he started. "He llamado a un amigo mío para ayudar a cuidar de los menores con talento." Subtitles rolled across the screens. [Yes, sir. Tonight, since we have such an array of talent, I've called on a friend of mine to take care of the lesser talented ones.]

The female judge sitting next to Lopez leaned to her microphone, "What my Mexican friend is trying to say," Sister started, "Is that if you suck, we're going to have Sheila blow you up." The cameras all turned to the audience, where Sheila waited with a clear shot at the stage.

"But," Doc, the final judge piped up, "I'm sure that everyone will do splendidly. It's going to be hard deciding who's going to win."

"How exactly are you judging them?" Simmons asked.

"Pues bien, el público nos lo dice todo," Lopez started. "Si es evidente que no están disfrutando de la actuación, Sheila se les explote." [Well, the audience tells us everything. If it's apparent that they aren't enjoying the performance, Sheila will blow them up.]

"Or if we just think they suck," Sister added, reading the subtitles.

"Hopefully we won't have to use the button very often though," Doc said cheerfully.

Simmons nodded at the judges. "So... Let's begin!" The audience erupted again as some of the contestants filed off the stage, leaving one.

"Este debe ser bueno..." Lopez sighed. [This ought to be good...]

"Uh, hi!" Caboose said, waving madly at Sheila. "My name is Michael J. Caboose and I like cookies!" He was wearing a pair of jeans and a purple t-shirt, and his blonde hair was sticking up at odd angles, like he'd stuck a fork in a toaster... again.

An audible groan came from Sister and Lopez, while Doc just happily said, "Hello, Caboose, how are you?"

"I'm good!" Caboose stated. "I'm gonna sing a song!" He cleared his throat and sang, "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!" He then clapped his hands twice. "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!" Again, he clapped his hands, unfazed by the fact that no one else was clapping. "If you're happy and you know it, then you really ought to show it!"

Lopez looked at Sister, who nodded. He then pushed a button on the table. Sheila's voice echoed through the studio. "Firing main cannon." "What...?" Caboose asked. Sheila fired and Caboose barely dodged it. "AHHH! THIS PLACE IS FILLED WITH MEAN LADIES!" he shouted as he ran around in circles. He found sanctuary when he dove behind the stage, causing Sheila to stop firing.

Simmons, who was barely able to contain his laughter, took to the stage. "With that, I think it's time for a commercial break."

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><p><strong>So, yeah, love it, hate it, I'm still going to write it either way. Chapters will continually get longer as I add full songs and such. Don't bother requesting songs, Aria and I already have a set list worked out. My sincerest of apologies, m'dears.<strong>

**I'll try to have an update every few days, but I'm not making promises. School and what not.**

**But I do have a question - Should I include what happens backstage as well as what happens on stage? It might mean fluff. It might mean a situation that would only lead to disaster and hilarity. Or it might be a terrible idea and I just need to forget about it.**

**REVIEW! I am like Tinkerbell. I need attention to live. (Sorry for the cheap Glee reference.**)

**- The Narwhal Ninja**


	2. Chapter 2: Sarge

**Hey, dears. I'm only updating because I have some of it pre-written. It's not going to be an everyday thing - unfortunately. However, thank you for the reviews!**

**Aria, it's going to be short. It's a musical performance. I can only do so much. Why can't you be happy with that? :P**

**TMW, I'm glad I made you laugh! :D That was the objective.**

**And to my anonymous reviewer, Donut will be coming along later on in the first round. After I finish Tex and Wash's performances, I promise Donut will visit us. :)**

**I still own nothing. I'm just a poor white kid. _**

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><p>"Welcome back to Blood Gulch Idol! The show tonight has started off rather explosively," Simmons said as a replay of Caboose dodging Sheila's cannon fire flashed across the screen, receiving a hearty laugh from the audience. "And now I'd like to welcome Sarge."<p>

Sarge ambled onto the stage, much to the delight of some of the audience. They clapped and cheered and so forth. "Afternoon," he said into a microphone. "Let the record show that I am going to win, 'cause no one is renaming my Warthog."

Simmons chuckled. "You bet, sir," he said, sounding like even more of a kiss-ass than usual. "I'm sure you will take the title for yourself!"

"¡Dios mío, alguien dispara Simmons," Lopez groaned. [Good Lord, someone shoot Simmons.]

"I am going to sing a personal favorite of mine," Sarge stated. "It's by a good ol' country boy by the name of Toby Keith."

"Toby Keith is amazing, sir," Simmons said.

"Simmons, get off my stage," Sarge said gruffly. "I can't sing with you standing on my stage."

"Right away, sir," Simmons said sheepishly as he shuffled off stage. Sarge combed his fingers through his gray hair and stood in front of a microphone. He opened his mouth and a southern drawl filled the studio...

"_American Girls and American Guys  
><em>_We'll always stand up and salute  
><em>_We'll always recognize  
><em>_When we see Old Glory Flying  
><em>_There's a lot of men dead  
><em>_So we can sleep in peace at night  
><em>_When we lay down our head..."_

He took the microphone off the stand and started to walk toward the left end of the stage. The in-studio band started to play a little louder, building the excitement of the song...

_"My daddy served in the army  
><em>_Where he lost his right eye  
><em>_But he flew a flag out in our yard  
><em>_Until the day that he died  
><em>_He wanted my mother, my brother, my sister and me  
><em>_To grow up and live happy  
><em>_In the land of the free."_

He paced back across the stage.

_"Now this nation that I love  
><em>_Has fallen under attack  
><em>_A mighty sucker punch came flyin' in  
><em>_From somewhere in the back  
><em>_Soon as we could see clearly  
><em>_Through our big black eye  
><em>_Man, we lit up your world  
><em>_Like the 4th of July..."_

He took back to center stage as the screen behind him was filled with footage from various wars and the American flag...

_"Hey Uncle Sam  
><em>_Put your name at the top of his list  
><em>_And the Statue of Liberty  
><em>_Started shakin' her fist  
><em>_And the eagle will fly  
><em>_Man, it's gonna be hell  
><em>_When you hear Mother Freedom  
><em>_Start ringin' her bell  
><em>_And it feels like the whole wide world is raining down on you  
><em>_Brought to you Courtesy of the Red White and Blue!"_

He took a moment to add, "But mostly the Reds."

_"Justice will be served  
><em>_And the battle will rage  
><em>_This big dog will fight  
><em>_When you rattle his cage  
><em>_And you'll be sorry that you messed with  
><em>_The U.S. of A.  
><em>_'Cause we'll put a boot in your ass  
><em>_It's the American way..."_

He put the microphone back on the stand as he sang the last chorus.

_'Hey Uncle Sam  
><em>_Put your name at the top of his list  
><em>_And the Statue of Liberty  
><em>_Started shakin' her fist  
><em>_And the eagle will fly  
><em>_Man, it's gonna be hell  
><em>_When you hear Mother Freedom  
><em>_Start ringin' her bell  
><em>_And it feels like the whole wide world is raining down on you  
><em>_Brought to you Courtesy of the Red White and Blue_."

Fireworks erupted behind him as he finished. "Just r'member," he stated as the audience applauded. "Mostly the Reds."

Simmons was applauding from the side of the stage. He crossed it, exclaiming his astonishment at the Sarge's talent. "Sir, you never told us how good you are," he said.

Sarge shrugged. "I'd like to say that you-" he pointed to the audience, "JUST GOT SARGE'D."

A laugh was received from Simmons before he turned the attention to the judges' panel. "What did you think?"

Sister shrugged. "It was better than the first one," she stated.

Doc was enthusiastically applauding. "Bravo! Bravo!"

"Creo que el rendimiento era débil y la falta prescencia etapa," Lopez said. "Pero, ya que no se chupan casi tanto como furgón de cola, vamos a dejar de pasar a la siguiente ronda." [I feel that the performance was weak and you lack stage prescience. But, since you didn't suck near as much as Caboose, we'll let you continue to the next round.]

"You're damn right I didn't suck near as much as that blue!" Sarge spat as he shuffled off stage. "I ought to rip your circuits out just for saying that my performance was weak. Someone, get me my shotgun!" He ran off stage, looking for anything to beat Lopez with.

Simmons looked nervous as he faced the camera. "Now is a perfect time for a break."

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><p><strong>Aria picked out the song: Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue ~ Toby Keith.<br>**

**Next performer: Our beloved Agent Texas.  
><strong>  
><strong>-The Narwhal Ninja <strong>


	3. Chapter 3: Tex

**My sincerest of apologies. I meant to update - I really did! I had this all typed up and I was starting on Wash's performance when this cruel fate struck me: useless drama. CHILDREN, LISTEN TO THE NARWHAL NINJA: DON'T FAKE EMOTIONS. DON'T THINK YOU'RE IN LOVE. NONE OF THAT. It's stupid. It makes me want to become that crazy old cat lady that lives in the house that kids don't trick or treat at. **

**Anyhow, I will probably be letting my dear Aria help me out, since I'm allergic to commitment (which makes me more of a crazy old cat lady candidate) and I feel like I have to commit to finish this. **

**But, happy day! I finally decided to update! Hopefully you lot are still reading. I still own absolutely nothing.**

"Welcome back to Blood Gulch Idol! Thanks for tuning in," Simmons said. "We've had our ups and downs tonight. And it's still the first round! Let's cut to the chase with a freelancer by the name of Agent Texas, lovingly referred to as Bitch-Pants McCrabby."

Tex sauntered onto the stage, her red hair was straightened, motorcycle boots clunked and her outfit was well-received with cat calls and whistles from the male audience particuarly Tucker. Clad in leather pants and a leather jacket, and a very low cut white shirt, Tex was bringing the "sexy" look with ease. Simmons was temporarily flabbergasted. "T-T-Tex," he stammered. "W-Wow."

Church could be seen from the front row, with an eyebrow arched and a look of fury and love in his eyes as he gazed upon his former lover.

Tex's smile was seductive. "What's the matter?" she asked, "Have you never seen a girl before?"

"Not one that looks the way you do!" Tucker shouted.

Tex flipped him the bird before she gave Simmons her pleading eyes. "Now, if you would kindly get your nerdy ass off my stage, I'll say some words to a melody to appease you people."

Simmons fumbled to get off the stage and take his place in the front row with the other contestants. Tex flashed a smile in the direction of the audience as a guitar was brought out to her along with a head mic. The guitar was deafening as she played a familiar riff. The lights were going mad it seemed, like an endless strobe. A band seemed to rise out of the floor to join her as she snarled the first verse...

_"I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation _

_You're living in the past it's a new generation _

_A girl can do what she wants to do and that's _

_What I'm gonna do _

_An' I don't give a damn ' bout my bad reputation _

_Oh no not me _

_[No no no no no] _

_Not me [me me me me]"_

She was know working her way across the stage, still playing her guitar and shooting pointed glares at... Certain people in the audience.

_"An' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation _

_Never said I wanted to improve my station _

_An' I'm only doin' good _

_When I'm havin' fun _

_An' I don't have to please no one _

_An' I don't give a damn _

_'Bout my bad reputation _

_Oh no, not me _

_Oh no, not me_

_I don't give a damn _

_'Bout my bad reputation _

_I've never been afraid of any deviation _

_An' I don't really care _

_If ya think I'm strange _

_I ain't gonna change _

_An' I'm never gonna care _

_'Bout my bad reputation _

_Oh no, not me _

_Oh no, not me _

_Pedal boys!"_

By now, she was standing near the band and seemed to be teasing the second guitarist. Had anyone looked to the audience, they would have seen Tucker with his jaw on the floor and Church's eyes shooting bullets at the group on stage. And the judges? Well, they seemed to be enjoying themselves...

Tex turned back to the audience, smiling devilishly.

_"An' I don't give a damn _

_'Bout my bad reputation _

_The world's in trouble _

_There's no communication _

_An' everyone can say _

_What they want to say _

_It never gets better anyway _

_So why should I care _

_'Bout a bad reputation anyway _

_Oh no, not me _

_No no, not me _

_I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation _

_You're living in the past _

_It's a new generation _

_An' I only feel good _

_When I got no pain _

_An' that's how I'm gonna stay _

_An' I don't give a damn _

_'Bout my bad reputation _

_Oh no, not me _

_Oh no, not _

_Not me, not me!" _

When the song finished, Tex pulled the guitar off her shoulder and set it on the ground, her eyes on the judges, daring them to give her a bad review. Sister went first. "So... Wait..." she said. "You're telling us that you don't care what we all think? Isn't that the point of the show? We decide who goes on and - "Lopez rolled his eyes. "Hermana, usted es pensar demasiado esto ... ¿Qué está diciendo algo. ¿Te ha gustado o no?" ["Sister, you're overthinking this... Which is saying something. Did you like it or not?"]

"Oh yeah, I liked it!" Sister said, nodding enthusiastically.

"Al igual que I. Su desprecio por la autoridad demostró a través de su rendimiento y creo que esta canción se personifica casi a la perfección." Lopez said. ["As did I. Your blatant disregard for authority showed through in your performance and I feel that this song personified you almost perfectly."]

Doc was smiling. "I liked it, but did you have to pick a song with such profain lyrics?" he asked. "I don't like that." Tex rolled her eyes. "Look, am I going on or what?" she asked. All three judges nodded. Before Simmons could come up and bother her with an interview, she jumped off the stage, and strutted out. As she walked by, she broke Tucker's nose with a swift punch. Immediately prior to this action, if one listened hard enough, you could hear him say "Hey, Tex, I wouldn't mind pedaling you. Bow Chicka Bow Wow." Amidst Doc leaping from his desk like a startled piglet to aid Tucker and his bleeding nose, Simmons announced another commercial. As he stood awkwardly on the stage, one could hear him sigh, "This is going to be a long competition."

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><p><strong>Song: Bad Reputation<br>Artist: Joan Jett and the Blackhearts (She's my hero, just so we're all aware.)**

**The song was mutually decided upon by myself and Aria. **

**I apologize for any character errors/grammatical errors/spelling errors/etc. **

**Next up (hopefully) our favorite FORMER bedwetter. **

**-The Narwhal Ninja **


	4. Chapter 4: Washington

**Hey m'dears~ Boredom is a powerful mistress. I might be able to get through Donut and Grif tonight. At least Donut. ^^ Aria, if you have anything - backstage junk or performances, send 'em to me and I'll probably use them. And if you have anything for any other Freelancers or Ariana - SEND THEM REGARDLESS. Many thanks~**

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><p>"COP!" Sister shouted as the lights shined back upon the stage. "COP!"<p>

"Sister, calm down," said Doc, who had finished attending to Tucker's broken nose. Tucker now sat with aloe vera rubbed on his neck and a cherry lollipop in his hand. Church was doing his best to not laugh at the man's disgruntled face and Caboose was patting his shoulder, asking for the lollipop.

"COP!" Sister's shriek cut through the studio.

"For the last time," Agent Washington growled as he stepped to the centerstage microphone. "I'm not a fucking cop." The Freelancer had seen better days - his five o'clock shadow was darker than usual and the bags under his eyes were rather apparant. However, his eyes were alert - a habit he had picked up throughout the years - and they were assessing every aspect of the studio.

Simmons's voice was heard before he was seen. "Washington!" he said as he jogged up the stairs. "Hello, how are you today?"

"Tired, bored, and wondering why the hell I'm doing this," Washington grumbled into the microphone. The click of a gun as it was loaded was heard throughout the cameras turned so everyone could see the petite blonde woman holding a gun that seemed to be bigger than she. The gun was pointed at Wash and she smiled a sweet smile. "This is why you are doing this," she said innocently. Wash rolled his eyes and Simmons laughed.

"Friend of yours, Wash?" he asked with a teasing smile. Wash's glare was enough to silence the entire studio. Simmons cleared his throat and nodded to him. "You... Uh, you have... Fun?" he asked as he shuffled away.

Wash faced the microphone. He didn't have anything specific planned for choreography, nor did he want to dance around the stage. The lights dimmed and a spotlight shined straight onto him.

_"I've got another confession to make_

_I'm your fool_

_Everyone's got their chains to break_

_Holdin' you_

_Were you born to resist, or be abused?_

_Is someone getting the best_

_The best, the best, the best of you?_

_Is someone getting the best_

_The best, the best, the best of you?_

_Or are you gone and onto someone new?"_

The band exploded in a shower of strobe lights and Wash allowed a small smile to creep across his lips. This was actually a lot more satisfying than he had anticipated. He powered through the second verse, enjoying himself more and more with each word.

_"I needed somewhere to hang my head_

_Without your noose_

_You gave me something that I didn't have_

_But had no use_

_I was too weak to give in_

_Too strong to lose_

_My heart is under arrest again_

_But I'll break loose_

_My head is giving me life or death_

_But I can't choose_

_I swear I'll never give in_

_I refuse_

_Is someone getting the best_

_The best, the best, the best of you?_

_Is someone getting the best_

_The best, the best, the best of you?_

_Has someone taken your faith?_

_It's real, the pain you feel_

_You trust, you must confess_

_Is someone getting the best_

_The best, the best, the best of you?_

_Has someone taken your faith?_

_It's real, the pain you feel_

_The life, the love_

_You'd die to heal_

_The hope that starts_

_The broken hearts_

_You trust, you must confess_

_Is someone getting the best_

_The best, the best, the best of you?_

_Is someone getting the best_

_The best, the best, the best of you?_

_I've got another confession my friend_

_I'm no fool_

_I'm getting tired of starting again_

_Somewhere new_

_Were you born to resist, or be abused?_

_I swear I'll never give in, I refuse_

_Is someone getting the best_

_The best, the best, the best of you?_

_Is someone getting the best_

_The best, the best, the best of you?_

_Has someone taken your faith?_

_It's real, the pain you feel_

_You trust, you must confess_

_Is someone getting the best_

_The best, the best, the best of you?"_

His simple rendition of the song was powerful - his voice seeming to come from no where. The judges were speechless. "Agente, que era simplemente extraordinaria," Lopez started. ["Agent, that was simply remarkable."]

"Where did you learn to sing? Cop training?" Sister asked. "Es posible que mojan la cama en el anonimato.," Lopez remarked dryly to his co-judge - receiving a laugh from the audience reading the subtitles. ["Possibly at bedwetters anonymous."]

"Agent Washington," Doc said, ignoring the exchange of snide remarks by his fellow judges, "You made your performance simple and to the point. I really feel that choosing to stay stationary really drove the point that you are staying firm in your descision to let go of whatever is holding you back." "I - uh - sure, let's go with that," Wash replied, unsure of what Doc had taken from his general lack of energy in his performance. "Agent Washington," Simmons said, "I can see that you were loved by the judges and the audience alike, we'll see you in the next round!" "Fan-fucking-tastic," Wash muttered under his breath. "Time for a comercial! Don't go anywhere, Blood Gulch Idol will be back after a word from our sponsors!"

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><p><strong>Song: Best of You<br>Artist: Foo Fighters**

**Song was suggested by myself.**

**DONUT IS NEXT~ Prepare for disaster and hilarity.**

**-The Narwhal Ninja **


	5. Chapter 5: Donut

**This is just a taste of the backstage pandemonium that I might start writing. Opinions? Pretty please? This also includes Donut's performance - that he manages to horribly screw up. xD**

* * *

><p>Mass hysteria greeted the television audience once they cut back from commercials. Sheila was firing her cannons again, Lopez and Sister were hiding under their table and Doc was screaming bloody murder. Simmons was bobbing and weaving through the cannon fire to get what looked to be a broken mirror with the voice of a sheep dyinng from throat cancer and a gun shot to the genitals to exit the stage.<p>

_Here's what you missed while we were on break_ flashes across the screens.

Simmons was walking through the audience, bothering the audience. He stopped near his fellow Reds, exchanging glances with Grif. Sarge then jumped up and demanded to know what Grif was drinking. "Beer," Grif replied gruffly.

"Do you have enough to share with us all?" Sarge asked.

"Fuck no, it's mine," Grif said, taking another swig of his drink.

"Give me that beverage, it's not fair that you get all of the alcohol to yourself. Especially when we're stuck in this godforsaken studio with all of these people. Why, they could all be blues! BLUES!" Sarge shouted.

"We're right here, you know," Church shouted at him.

"GOD DAMMMIT, GRIF," Sarge shouted. "YOU LET THEM GOD DAMN BLUES IN HERE. SHOULDN'T YOU BE GUARDIN' SOMETHIN' ?"

"No," Grif replied, rolling his eyes.

"GRIF, GET OFF YOUR FAT ASS AND TAKE CARE OF DEM BLUES!" Sarge commanded.

Grif rolled his eyes and took a beer can out of his cooler and threw it at Sarge. "Take your god damn beer and shut the hell up," he growled.

With all of the attention being drawn to Sarge, no one noticed Donut stroll out wearing what appeared to be a broken mirror and a bubble wrap wig. "¿Qué diablos es eso?" Lopez asked. ["What the hell is that?"]

"OH MY GOD, IT'S MOTHER MONSTER!" Sister and Doc shouted, flailing about.

"Todos ustedes son conscientes de que todavía estamos en vacaciones, ¿verdad?" Lopez asked. ["You are all aware that we're still on break, right?"]

"You guys really think I look like her?" Donut asked. "Oh my gosh, I'm so excited!"

"Idiotas," Lopez grumbled. ["Idiots."]

"I guess I'll just start singing," Donut said.

"Idiota! Todavía estamos en las vacaciones!" Lopez shouted. ["Moron! We're still on break!"]

Sister and Doc were on the edge of their seat, Simmons was still trying to calm Sarge, Grif was slowly reaching a content drunkenness, and Donut was clearing his throat. "Es mi micrófono no en? Yo me escucha. Puede que nadie me oye?" Lopez wondered aloud. ["Is my microphone not on? I hear me. Can no one else hear me?"]

"_It doesn't matter if you love him_

_Or capital put your paws up_

_'Cause you were born this way, baby." _

Donut put his hands up, glaring at the speechless audience.

"Oh, Dios mío, tienes que estar bromeando," Lopez sighed. ["Oh my God, you've got to be kidding."]

_"My mama told me when I was young_

_We are all born 'd comb my hair, put my lipstick on_

_In the glass of her boudoir_

_'There's nothing wrong with loving who you are'_

_She said, ' 'Cause he made you perfect, babe'_

_'So hold your head up girl and you'll go far,_

_Listen to me when I say' "_

"Por favor, por el amor de Dios..." Lopez said, reaching for Sheila's button. ["Please, for the love of God..."]

Sister's hand flew across the table to slap Lopez's away. "Touch that button and I will kill you where you sit," she threatened before resuming dancing with Doc. All three of them screamed the chorus.

_"I'm beautiful in my way_

_'Cause God makes no mistakes_

_I'm on the right track, baby_

_I was born this way_

_Don't hide yourself in regret_

_Just love yourself and you're set_

_I'm on the right track, baby_

_I was born this way..." _

"Eso es todo, puedo sentir mis módulos audiencia fugas de aceite." Lopez slammed his fist down on the button. ["That's it, I can feel my hearing modules leaking oil."]

"Firing main cannon," Sheila said calmly, taking aim to the mirror. She was silent for a moment, leaving the three Little Monsters to continue singing. "Cannot lock on target. Commence hellfire." She fired at random, trying to find the mirror.

And at this moment in time, the cameras decided to start rolling again.

At the end of the recap, the entire studio was in shambles. Simmons' voice cracked as he shuffled across the mangled stage. "This concludes tonight's episode, seeing as we no longer have a studio to film in. Tune in tomorrow for the remainder of the first round."

* * *

><p><strong>I got tired of cutting to commercials. What can I say?<strong>

**Anyhow:**

**Song: Born This Way**  
><strong>Artist: Lady Gaga<strong>

**Song choice was made by... I think it was Aria.**

**Oh, and that blonde chick I mentioned back during Wash's performance - that is Ariana. She is the main love interest in Aria's RvB fanfic _Resurfaced Memory. _GO READ IT, 'TIS FAR BETTER THAN THIS CRAP. xD**

**Next up, GRIF~**


	6. Chapter 6: Grif

**Hey, just a heads up - the song I'm using for Grif has a crap load of lyrics.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Good evening," Simmons said, strolling across the new stage. "Our sincerest of apologies for what happened last night. We have come to the conclusion that Donut has been eliminated from the competition and we resume the first round with our beloved Grif."<p>

Grif stepped up on stage with a lit cigarette in his mouth and a half empty beer can in his hand. It was blatant that he was pretty drunk at the moment. He combed his fingers through his hair and tugged at the collar of his orange t-shirt. Sister shouted up at him, "Hey Grif! Hey, it's me! It's your sister!" She waved madly and Grif belched in her direction.

"Shut up," he growled, "don't embarass mom!"

Simmons was smiling awkwardly. "Well, I guess I'll just walk this way... Bye, Grif."

"Sorprendernos, Grif," Lopez muttered, still tired from the previous night's antics. ["Amaze us, Grif."]

"How about I just burp my alphabet? Will that work for you all?" Grif asked.

"HOW ABOUT NO, GRIF!" Sarge shouted. "YOU WILL SING LIKE A CANARY OR I WILL SHOOT YOU."

Grif rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever, I only know like two songs though."

"I SANG, YOU CAN SING," Sarge shouted again.

"¿Es usted un juez, señor?" Lopez asked. ["Are you a judge, sir?"] "No, no lo creo. Ahora cierra la trampa y se sientan." ["No, didn't think so. Now shut your trap and sit down."]

"Jesus Christ, people, will you all shut up?" Sister shouted. "I want to hear my brother sing!"

Grif drained his can of beer and crushed the can, throwing it in the general direction of his sister. "Alright, alright I'll sing you a god damn song. "The band in the background started playing a bluesy tune.

_"Wanna tell you a story,_

_about the house-rent blues_

_I come home one Friday,_

_had to tell the landlady I'd done lost my job_

_She said that don't comfort me,_

_long as I get my money next Friday_

_Now next Friday come I didn't get the rent,_

_and out the door I went_

_So I goes to the landlady,_

_I said, "You let me slide?"_

_I'll have the rent for you tomorrow._

_the next day I don't know_

_So said let me slide it on you know people,_

_I notice when I come home in the evening_

_She ain't got nothing nice to say to me,_

_but for five year she was so nice_

_Loh' she was lovy-dovy,_

_I come home one particular evening_

_The landlady said, "You got the rent money yet?",_

_I said, "No, can't find no job"_

_Therefore I ain't got no money to pay the rent_

_She said "I don't believe you're tryin' to find no job"_

_Said "I seen you today you was standin' on a corner,_

_leaning up against a post"_

_I said "But I'm tired, I've been walkin' all day"_

_She said "That don't confront me,_

_long as I get my money next Friday"_

_Now next Friday come I didn't have the rent,_

_and out the door I went_

_So I go down the streets,_

_down to my good friend's house_

_I said "Look man I'm outdoors you know,_

_can I stay with you maybe a couple days?"_

_He said "Uh, Let me go and ask my wife"_

_He come out of the house,_

_I could see in his face_

_I know that was no_

_He said "I don't know man, ah she kinda funny, you know"_

_I said "I know, everybody funny, now you funny too"_

_So I go back home_

_I tell the landlady I got a job, I'm gonna pay the rent_

_She said "Yeah?" I said "Oh yeah"_

_And then she was so nice,_

_loh' she was lovy-dovy_

_So I go in my room, pack up my things and I go,_

_I slip on out the back door and down the streets I go_

_She a-hollerin' about the front rent, she'll be lucky to get any back rent,_

_she ain't gonna get none of it_

_So I stop in the local bar you know people,_

_I go to the bar, I ring my coat, I call the bartender_

_Said "Look man, come down here", he got down there_

_So what you want?"_

A scantily dressed girl walked out with a tray full of drinks as Grif bellowed the chorus.

_"One bourbon, one scotch, one beer_

_Well I ain't seen my baby since I don't know when,_

_I've been drinking bourbon, whiskey, scotch and gin_

_Gonna get high man I'm gonna get loose,_

_need me a triple shot of that juice_

_Gonna get drunk don't you have no fear_

_I want one bourbon, one scotch and one beer_

_One bourbon, one scotch, one beer."_

"Drinks all around!" Grif shouted. A cheer went up through the audience as hundreds of waitresses brought glasses of bourbon, scotch, and beer to them all.

_But I'm sitting now at the bar,_

_I'm getting drunk, I'm feelin' mellow_

_I'm drinkin' bourbon, I'm drinkin' scotch, I'm drinkin' beer_

_Looked down the bar, here come the bartender_

_I said "Look man, come down here"_

_So what you want?_

_One bourbon, one scotch, one beer_

_No I ain't seen my baby since the night before last,_

_gotta get a drink man I'm gonna get gassed_

_Gonna get high man I ain't had enough,_

_need me a triple shot of that stuff_

_Gonna get drunk won't you listen right here,_

_I want one bourbon, one shot and one beer_

_One bourbon, one scotch, one beer"_

By now, Tex was challenging Church, Sarge, and Washington to a drinking contest - and she was winning. Caboose was wrinkling his nose, wondering if the pretty waitress had any apple juice. Sister was dancing on the judges table like something out of Coyote Ugly. Tucker was standing near the judges table with a roll of cash, tossing bills up to Sister. Simmons was getting plenty drunk and Doc was reaching for Sheila's button - hoping to end the madness.

_"Now by this time I'm plenty high,_

_you know when your mouth a-getting dry you're plenty high_

_Looked down the bar I say to my bartender_

_I said "Look man, come down here", he got down there_

_So what you want this time?_

_I said "Look man, a-what time is it?"_

_He said "The clock on the wall say three o'clock_

_Last call for alcohol, so what you need?"_

_One bourbon, one scotch, one beer_

_No I ain't seen my baby since a nigh' and a week,_

_gotta get drunk man so I can't even speak_

_Gonna get high man listen to me,_

_one drink ain't enough Jack you better make it three_

_I wanna get drunk I'm gonna make it real clear,_

_I want one bourbon, one scotch and one beer_

_One bourbon, one scotch, one beer"_

The beligerant audience applauded madly. Tex was standing over the three men, who clearly weren't holding up so well after sixteen shots of bourbon and four pitchers of beer. Caboose's words were slurred, having tried a bit of scotch. Sister was dancing for the audience - causing the horribly drunk Grif to throw a lit cigarette in her direction, muttering something about embarassing mom. Doc was hiding under the table.

"Grif," Simmons managed to say, "that was the BEST per - for - munce evur. Yer goin... on."

Grif fist pumped the air and said, "I love you, man. C'mere, give me a hug." He outstretched his arms, but the two collapsed before either one could get a hug.

The blonde girl that had threatened Washington reappeared, a tad tipsy. "Hey, guys, I need to go get a bunch of coffee for these guys. We'll be ... right... back." 

* * *

><p><strong>Song: One Bourbon One Scotch One Beer<br>Artist: George Thorogood and The Destroyers**

**Song choice credit goes to me. **

**So, I was kind of surprised at the people anticipating Grif's performance. Hopefully this doesn't disappoint.**

**I think I'll do Church next.**

**-The Narwhal Ninja **


	7. Chapter 7: Backstage Fluffy Goodness!

**So, uh, I apologize for not updating recently - school's been hell. And then I finished this with minor injuries to my head and neck, so it probably sucks. _ But, yeah, this is sort of the backstage stuff that goes down. They're all still drunk or hungover. There is some Grimmons but mostly Tex/Church fluff. **

**Don't judge my fluff - deep down, I'm a sensitive person who takes everyone's comments to heart. So, if you don't like it, well, sorry. And if you do, I'm going to have to ask you what is wrong with you, 'cause I can write far better.  
>Oh, just read it. _<strong>

* * *

><p>Ariana shoved everyone backstage in a green room, promising that the world's supply of coffee was on it's way. Tucker and Sister quickly disappeared, but their whereabouts were unknown. Washington sank into an armchair, rubbing his temples as his drunkenness was wearing into a hangover. Church splayed out on a couch near Sarge.<p>

"YOU GOD DAMN BLUE, GET OFF MY COUCH!" Sarge shouted from his respective end of the overly large couch.

"You know what, no, I'm not vacating my couch!" Church shouted back.

"THAT'S THE PROBLEM WITH YOU BLUES, YOU ALWAYS THINK THAT EVERYTHING IS YOURS. I OUGHT TO TEACH YOU A LESSON! GRIF, GET ME MY SHOTGUN," Sarge shouted, looking around for his soldier. "GRIF, YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING FREELOADER, WHERE THE HELL IS MY SHOTGUN?"

Grif was no where to be seen.

"SIMMONS, YOU USELESS WORM, WHERE THE HELL IS GRIF WITH MY SHOTGUN?" Sarge shouted. No reply again. Sarge stood up, scanning the small room for his soldiers.

Church just glared at him. "I fail to understand why the hell you seem to think that the Reds own everything," he growled. "We're stuck in this competition, no one's fighting for possession of anything. No one's trying to kill anyone. Just leave me in peace with my hangover."

"GRIF! SIMMONS!" Sarge shouted in horror, having found his two soldiers. "THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING?" The two soldiers were sitting under a table, both missing their shirts. They were laughing madly now, hiccupping every now and then.

"Hey, Sarge," Simmons said. "Grif told me the funniest joke!"

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOUR SHIRTS?" Sarge shouted.

"Hey, hey Sarge," Grif said. "You wanna hear it?"

"I WANT TO KNOW WHERE YOUR SHIRTS ARE."

"Why did the…. The chicken cross the uh.. The road?" Grif asked.

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN AS TO WHY THE CHICKEN CROSSED THE ROAD, I WANT TO KNOW WHY YOU TWO ARE DOWN THERE AND SHIRTLESS."

"To get to the other side!" Grif shouted, causing Simmons to fall into stitches of laughter.

"GOD DAMMIT GRIF, IF YOU DON'T PUT A SHIRT ON, THEN SO HELP ME, I'LL SHOOT YOUR ASS FULL OF LEAD," Sarge threatened.

"Hate to burst your bubble," Church muttered, "but I'm pretty sure Grif wouldn't mind."

"YOU SHUT UP BLUE," Sarge shouted.

"MAKE ME," retorted Church.

"WILL YOU ALL JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP?" screeched Caboose, who was hiding in the only relatively dark corner of the room. "MY HEAD HURTS REALLY BAD."

Sarge looked like he was going to shout something at the young blue soldier, but Simmons suddenly shouted, "Grif, put that away! I don't want Donut to see it!" The older Red jumped across the room to separate the two of them and prevent what could be a total disaster in his opinion.

Church settled into the couch, silently celebrating his victory. The door flew open and he lifted his head up to see Tex leaning heavily on the doorframe. "Hey, guys, did you know that there's a couple of really hot guys with a mobile bar right out there? Fully stocked wet bar. And there is some dirt cheap prices."

"They had strawberry daiquiris didn't they?" Church asked.

"Made with vodka 'stead of rum!" Tex announced.

Church rolled his eyes, knowing very well that Tex could hold her whiskey or straight vodka, but add in some sort of fruit and she was gone. Strawberry daiquiris were her weakness.

She paraded over to the couch and basically fell on top of Church. "Hey, sexy," she said seductively.

"You're drunk," Church commented.

"Good job Captain Obvious," she snickered.

"Get off," he grunted, pushing her into a sitting position. She found herself incapable of sitting unsupported and toppled back over onto him. With a groan, he pushed her back up and sat up, letting her lean on his shoulder. "You're going to be a mess in a couple hours," he warned her.

"Nah, it's okay. They have Bloody Maries outside too," she assured him.

"Not for you. You're cut off," Church said sternly.

"No I'm not," she stated.

"Uh, yes you are," Church replied. Tex leaned over and put her head on his chest, looking up at him.

"Oh really? And what's big and bad Church gonna do to make sure I don't get my alcohol?" she asked.

"I could just hold you here against your will," Church stated bluntly.

Tex's eyes flickered. "Really, Church? You'll hold me?"

"No! No! No!" Church stammered, trying to get her off "Not like that!" She blinked her green eyes up at him in a pitiful expression he had only seen a handful of times. He scowled. "Damn, you turn into such a clingy girl when you're drunk."

She rolled her eyes and snuggled closer to him. She yawned, smiling slightly as her eyes closed. "There is a couch that could sleep three adults and you choose to take a nap on me?" he asked.

"Well, duh," came her reply. "You're comfortable."

"What do you me - "

"I mean you're pudgy," she stated. "Fat. Like the Pillsbury Dough-Boy."

Church heard a snicker arise from Washington. Tex choose this to be the best time to say, "Yeah, you're not like Wash over there. He's quite robust. His six pack is like amazing. And lemme tell you, Washington over there is like the best Freelancer in bed."

Church's glare burned into Washington. He held his hands up in surrender. "She slipped something in my drink."

Church's glare morphed to mild horror as it swung back to Tex. She registered that he was mortified by that and shrugged. "What? Freelancer was a boring, boring place. I only had like thirty states to choose from when I wasn't bi-drunk. And Washington, dear, I only slipped something in your drink the first time. All of the following encounters were consensual."

Church's jaw was hanging as he looked back at Washington. He shrugged. "Like she said, Freelancer was a boring place."

"Maine wasn't that bad," Tex said distantly.

"I do not want to hear this!" Church shouted. "Just go to sleep!"

"On you?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure, just shut up about your sex life!" Church insisted. Tex shrugged and buried her face in Church's chest.

Washington was just staring at the two. "You do realize that she either carefully planned all of this and manipulated us both just so she could get close to you or she's really fucking drunk," he said.

Church furrowed his brow. "Nah, she hates my guts 99.9% of the time. She's just drunk out of her mind."

"Not to be over-stepping any boundaries," Washington started.

"You've overstepped nearly all of them, why stop now?" Church growled.

"But, what if it's that one glimmer of hope that comes around when she's drunk?" Washington asked. "The one that reassures you that you still matter to her and that she hasn't completely lost herself?"

"Continue," Church said hesitantly.

"You say she gets clingy when she's drunk," Washington started,

"What if that's her way of getting close to you without having to deal with any resulting consequences."

Church smirked. "Okay, okay, let's see here, you are just a series of one-night stands and I am one of the few people she's ever had a relationship with," he summarized. "And yet, you know more about her than I supposedly do."

Washington shrugged. "Look, all I'm trying to say is she doesn't like commitment. She's drunk enough to not think about her actions, but still sober enough to realize that she can get what she wants in this state."

"And she is still awake," Tex muttered. "And one of you is wrong."

"Which one?" they both asked.

She smiled, not opening her eyes. "That's for me to know and you two to figure out," she said finally. Her breathing evened out and she was clearly asleep, leaving the two men completely dazed and confused.

* * *

><p><strong>It's a disappointment, I know. But I felt kind of bad 'cause I sort of abandoned you this week. The ending probably sucked because I am writing under the influence of pain medicine and protein bars. Sorry. Aria is working on Tucker's performance and I'm almost done with Church's. Then it's the end of the first round! Egad! (Finally! xD)<strong>

**Live long and prosper ~ The Narwhal Ninja**


	8. Chapter 8: Tucker

**Hello Dears~! The Narwhal Ninja has commitment issues so it's Aria that will be writing this time.**

**I know she promised you Church, but we have something special planned for him, so you get… Someone else!**

**Oh, and since TNN decided to use my OC in this fan fiction, Imma feature her in a little bit o' fluff in, mmkay?**

**Enjoy~!**

The commercial break had taken a lot longer than intended. Unfortunately, the small girl who was supposed to bring everyone some coffee, had taken a few drinks too many on her way there and had gotten lost. She returned over a half hour later, thoroughly drunk and stumbling along trying-and failing- to balance a tray of coffee mugs on her head.

Needless to say, the lives of numerous porcelain hot liquid containers were lost that night, and everyone else just went to get their own coffee.

And so, after cleaning up the broken glass and spilt liquid, somehow managing to get a response out of one of the contestants, and sobering up a little, Simmons walked back on stage as the cameras began rolling again. "Well everyone that was quite a wild performance. We're sorry for the long wait, but now we are ready to move on with… Hey wait, where's Tucker?"

The cameras panned down and zoomed in on the oblivious dark skinned man standing near the aisle, who was focusing his attention on Agent Washington. Or more appropriately, the small, blonde, and obviously hung over young woman sitting in his lap, who was quite possibly unconscious.

"Cute girlfriend you got there Wash." Tucker snickered. Washington, who had sobered up rather quickly after the drinking contest, was sitting awkwardly, trying to avoid contact with the girl that was currently draped over him like some sort of rag doll, apparently not used to being this close to someone.

"I keep telling you, she's not my girlfriend." He growled, not amused.

"Really now," Tucker grinned, "Well, if that's the case I could take her off your hands. I would mind having a girl like that on my lap. The only thing that could make that better is some music and if she did a little dance."

Washington glared up at him, as the girl was revived enough to flip him off. Tucker laughed, "Aw come on babe, I have the perfect outfit for you to wear. Do you like leather?"

"I'm going to stab you if you don't get out of my face within the next thirty seconds." She threatened, her speech still a bit slurred.

"Okay, okay, no need to get all defensive, I have to go perform anyways. Just give me a call if you want to have some fun." He winked over his shoulder as he began to walk to the stage. "Bow-chicka-bow-wow!"

An empty beer bottle flew past his head, "FUCK OFF, YOU PERV!" the female culprit yelled. Tucker laughed, but ran faster, a bit nervous.

The girl dropped her head into her hands, "Ow… my brain monkeys are dying…" she moaned.

"I told you not to drink so much Ariana." Wash chided.

"I wasn't going to let you have all the fun." Ariana said with a weak smile. "Besides I only had two or three, you had a lot more than I did."

"Yeah but you have absolutely no alcohol tolerance." He berated, "Don't you remember the last time you 'only had two or three' drinks?"

Ariana pursed her lips and stared up at the ceiling, as if searching for answers. "Uhh… Nope. Not really…"

"That's what I thought." He sighed, "Well, At least this time you didn't end up making out with some random guy in the corner."

Ariana giggled. "Oh yeah, I remember that! That was pretty fun."

Washington just shook his head, "You are unbelievable."

Ariana smiled "Don't worry Wash, you're still way cuter than him." She teased softly, patting him on the head.

Washington's face flushed bright red, "Y-you're still drunk. Shut up and go back to sleep." He muttered.

"Mmkay." She answered cheerfully, burying her face into his shirt.

"N-not on me!" He shouted, blushing again, clearly agitated "Seriously, get the fuck off and sleep somewhere else."

The only response he received was Ariana wrapping her arms around him tighter. After a moment, the tired man forced himself to relax a little. "Ah, what the hell." He sighed, reaching an arm up to rest protectively over her shoulders.

Tucker jumped up onto the stage, winking at Sister as he took the mike off the stand. "Hey hot stuff, what'cha got for us?" The female judge asked, grinning.

"Oh you'll see sweet cheeks. I think you're gonna like it." An all too familiar tune started playing, and Church looked up, horrified.

"Oh God, tell me he's not…" Tucker tore off his shirt, displaying his dark chest. "Oh no. He is."

"_I'm too sexy for my love_

_Too sexy for my love_

_Love's going to leave me._"

Tucker sang as hundreds of fan girls screamed.

"_I'm too sexy for my shirt_

_Too sexy for my shirts_

_So sexy it hurts_

_And I'm too sexy for Milan_

_Too sexy for Milan_

_New York and Japan"_

Caboose looked up innocently. "Tucker put your shirt back on! You're upsetting Church!" he yelled, covering his eyes.

"_And I'm too sexy for your party_

_Too sexy for your party_

_No way I'm disco dancing_

_I'm a model you know what I mean_

_And I do my little turn on the catwalk_

_Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk, yeah_

_I do my little turn on the catwalk_."

Ariana started giggling madly. "He's still drunk isn't he Wash?" she asked.

"I actually think this may be normal." he grimaced, a bit disturbed.

Ariana began to flail, "I think I like it here. It's fun! They're weird!"

Washington put a hand over her mouth "You're annoying. I liked you better asleep."

"'_I'm too sexy for my car_

_Too sexy for my car_

_Too sexy by far_

_And I'm too sexy for my hat_

_Too sexy for my hat_

_What do you think about that_?"

Sister got up and started to dance on the judges table as Tucker strutted down the stage, much to her brother's protest.

"_I'm a model you know what I mean_

_And I do my little turn on the catwalk_

_Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk, yeah_

_I shake my little tush on the catwalk._"

Donut pouted, "I admit, this performance is rather fabulous. But if he can sing this half naked, why can't I dress up and sing Gaga?"

"_I'm too sexy for my_

_Too sexy for my too sexy for my_

_'Cos I'm a model you know what I mean_

_And I do my little turn on the catwalk_

_Yeah on the catwalk yea on the catwalk, yeah_

_I shake my little tush on the catwalk._"

Some girls in bikinis strode out, dancing around Tucker. Sister took his hand and climbed up on stage to dance too.

"_I'm too sexy for my cat_

_Too sexy for my cat_

_Poor pussy poor pussy cat."_

He sang, stroking underneath Sister's chin seductively. She giggled and blushed before Grif drug her off stage.

"_I'm too sexy for my love_

_Too sexy for my love_

_Love's going to leave me_"

He sang false dejectedly, as she left.

"_And I'm too sexy for this song_."

The girls cheered. The guys face-palmed. And the Judges were speechless. Although unprofessional and a bit humorous, Tucker had a decent voice.

"That was so hot!" Sister shouted, clapping like an idiot.

"Usted, señor, son muy la zorra." Lopez muttered. [You sir, are quite the slut.]

Doc stood up, "Well Tucker, that was an interesting performance." He started hesitantly "But I admire you're talent so… you're going to the next round!"

Tucker fist pumped. "Hell Yeah! So who wants to join me in the green room for a little celebration party? What do you say Ariana? Bow-chicka-bow-wow!" he yelled. Another bottle was thrown at his head, this time by none other than Agent Washington.

Ariana laughed, "If this is what you guys do all the time, I cannot wait for the next performance."

**Ta-Da! I know, this isn't as good as TN Ninja's but I tried. Hehe Tucker's such a slut.**

**I liked writing about a hung over Ariana, I don't think I'll get the chance in my fanfic, so this was pretty fun. ^.^ Sorry if I put too much emphasis on her.**

**Oh Well, until next time! -Aria**


End file.
